


Booty Calls

by MrMenace, Unicorn (Jensee)



Series: Like Clockwork [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cutter is tiny AND horny, M/M, and you know. also a psychopath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMenace/pseuds/MrMenace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jensee/pseuds/Unicorn
Summary: Even Cutter needs a break from mitigating disaster sometimes. And tonight he found the perfect stress-relief.





	Booty Calls

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, if you're not sure who Enlil is, I'd advise against looking it up, because it'll spoil you what will happen next.  
> Oh, yeah, there's a continuation to this.
> 
> This series's not gonna be super quick to be uploaded - writing this is My stress-relief- but we do know what'll happen so... it'll happen :)
> 
> This idea comes straight out from Tyr and I getting off on our headcannon for a character that barely appears for ten minutes and making a whole backstory for him, so I'm gonna dedicate this thing to friendship <3

Marcus scanned the crowded bar as he waited for his drink to arrive. He was bored, tired, and eager to find someone to fuck the tension out of him. He had hardly ever been one to take a breather when times got tough, but when letting a few heads roll wasn’t enough to save his lost tech, and after a week of keeping himself awake, he was smart enough to recognize that even he needed a break. Preferably one that would make him come screaming into a pillow.

The place was full of people just as hungry as he felt, and he shared some appreciative glances with bulky men looking at him like a feisty piece of meat.

“Hey” said one of them, close enough to put his large, sweaty hand on Marcus’s shoulder, “want a drink?”

He didn’t seem put off by Marcus’s smile, full of teeth as it was, so he didn’t protest when the man sat down in the seat across him.

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen that lovely face of yours before.”

Marcus smiled and nodded, letting his mouth run the mindless chatter as he appreciated the strong arms and torso in front of him, perfect to fuck him hard against a wall and quickly forget him after. The guy was a consultant, or something, proud of his work and happy to rant and rant about it; looking, after a drink Marcus had quickly downed, no closer to making his move. Marcus’ eyes started to wander again as he got bored.

Someone was looking back. Green eyes in a cute, shy looking face that immediately turned away when Marcus noticed it.

The guy in front of him was going on and on about his job, from time to time laughing at his own stories, putting his head in a little tilt that made him look like a dog asking for pets. Marcus paid baremy any attention to it. Past him, the other guy was still dancing, turned away from the bar, but even in the faint lights of the dancefloor, the skin of his neck was unmistakingly flushed.

“Are you paying for the drinks?”

“And then she- what?”

The guy looked at him quizzically, his brows furrowed. Marcus smiled, unrestrained. It was a smile similar as the one he used during corporate meetings. The expression on the other’s face fell slightly, and his shoulders dropped a bit. All unintentional, Marcus was sure.

“Are you paying for the drinks?”

“But- What? I mean-”

“It’s a simple question.” Marcus didn’t bother to make his voice threatening, but the wide eyes he was rewarded with told him he didn’t need to. Preys like that man recognized a predator when they saw one, even one trapped in a five feet two, well-dressed body. “Are you paying. Yes, or no?”

“Uh… Yeah…”

“Great!” Marcus got up. “See you around.”

The guy tried to protest, but his hand didn’t reach Marcus and he didn’t seem eager to actually try to follow him. That was perfectly fine with him, and he made a beeline for one specific body in the crowd.

He was halfway there when the young man turned around. Marcus could see a moment of confused disappointment pass on his face when his eyes fell on the vacated seat, then he saw Marcus and his eyes grew wide.

“Hello there.”

“H- Hi”

Spluttering. That was cute.

Not quite young enough to be called a boy, the man was still a tad younger than Marcus Cutter, in his mid-thirties at most, tall, with a square face and a bit of a slack chin. His face looked incredibly red, a neon almost as powerful as the ones lining the wall.

Adorable.

Marcus slid a hand across the heated jaw of the man, looking up to pin him with a hungry stare.

“And what is your name?”

“Um… Enlil? I mean. Enlil. That’s my name.”

“Enlil…” - Marcus traced the curve of his jaw with a light finger, causing a shiver to ripple over the skin there - “God of the Wind, if I remember correctly.”

“Oh! Yes! It is! I mean-”

“Call me Marcus.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.” Marcus’s eyes traveled down. Enlil’s torso was large, as were his hands, and his fingers were thick and powerful despite the slight tremor they were shaking with at the moment. In what seemed to be a effort to make himself fit the generally accepted mold of “alluring”, Enlil had crammed his legs in a tight-fitting pair of jeans, which shaped his ass like an extra plush pillow, but destroyed the line of his thighs. He was eager to see what they looked like out of the fabric.

Enlil let out a sound - too low for Marcus to quite hear over the music - when the hands around his throat started to travel down his body.

“And do you have a place, Enlil?” This time the sound was just loud enough for his ears to pick up: a whine that abruptly stopped as Marcus reached the seams of criminally ill-fitted pants.

“Well? I wouldn’t mind going behind the bar, but I do prefer a bed”

“ _Yes_! I have a place! It’s not far from here and -”

“Let’s go then.”

“Right!”

* * *

 

Enlil was adorable in his haste to get them out of the bar and up his apartment building in a nice, quiet neighbourhood a few minutes walk away from the bar. He was bright red as he fumbled with his keys, Marcus amusing himself by lightly tracing the shape of his ass with his fingers.

He didn’t waste any time pushing Enlil against the door as soon as it was closed, making his pick whine as he immediately attacked his neck with his mouth. Enlil seemed to like the teeth, and Marcus was more than happy to run them against his skin, to feel him shiver and moan under the assault. He made quick work of those horrendous jeans and Enlil let out a long moan as he left pink welt across his skin, revealing in the soft, plush flesh beneath his fingers.

“Fuck me,” breathed Marcus into the man’s ear, his clothed groin pushing against Enlil’s swelling cock.

“Ahhh,” Enlil blinked several times before his eyes looked focused again. “Uh, bed?”

Marcus let his smile bloom on his face, not bothering to soften the hard lines of it, and Enlil shivered instead of recoiling.

“Sure.”

He climbed up the man’s body and Enlil only seemed to startle a bit before his hands automatically reached up to hoist Marcus up. He swayed a bit when Marcus applied his mouth at his troat once more, hooking a hand under the man's shirt to tease a hard nipple, but they finally manged to reach a homey-looking bedroom relatively unscated.

Enlil tried to drop Marcus down gently but Marcus gripped him tightly and the man stumbled over him, his weight knocking the wind out of Marcus’ smaller frame. He let out a hum of contentment, gripping Enlil to keep his centering weight on him. This is what he’d been needing - carving - all week, something to force him down, to push him back into what little was left of himself.  
Marcus Cutter existed for the work: he _was_ the work; but he was still human, somewhat.

“Come on,” he finally pushed Enlil up, pulling on the fabric covering Enlil's chest. The man complied easily, his mouvement just this side of shaky as he hastily removed his shirt. Cutter lost no time in removing his own pants and boxer, letting the pricey fabric crumble at the side of the bed. He’d fold it properly later. Right now, he had other priorities.

Enlil’s breath caught in his throat audibly when Marcus turned around on his hands and knees, his ass up in the air, and the small plug he was wearing pulsing in time with his rim, contracting and relaxing in turn.

“Come on” repeated Marcus, and that seemed to kick Enlil out of his momentaneous transe. In a instant, he’d produced a condom, and with shaky mouvements rolled it on a nice, thick dick that was making Marcus salivate.

“Is it okay if-?”

“ _Yes_ ”

Enlil carefully reached with his hand to try and get the plug out. Marcus let out a sigh of pleasure as his rim burned with the added stretch, the thick fingers rubbing against his flesh and sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. The plug came away with a wet  _pop_ , and the two fingers breached his rim, using what was left of the lube Marcus had used to push at his tight walls. It was a nice gesture, probably, but not what Marcus was waiting for. He batted away the gentle hands, his arms just a tad too short to grab the man's dick and force it inside of him.

"Just  _fuck_ me."

“Are you sure-”

“ _Yes._ Come _on._ ”

“But you’re still-”

"Enlil," Marcus hissed, and the younger immediatly stood to attention, freezing in that instinctive knowledge of danger, "that's your name right? If you don’t fuck me _right now_ , I’ll turn this around to ride you and I’ll make sure you don’t come _at all_ , so hurry it up.”

Enlil let out a small sound, a hint that maybe he wouldn’t entirely mind that, but before Marcus could actually consider it, he finally took a firm hold of his hips and slid his cock into him, much too careful but finally _there_. Marcus let out an unrestrained mewl as he was finally given a burning stretch, a path of fire and pleasure lighting him up from the inside.

“Harder,” he ordered “ _Harder_ ” and spasmed around Enlil’s shaft to encourage him.

And finally, finally, Enlil sped up, starting to lose himself a bit as he started to pound into Marcus, to really scratch that hitch that Marcus’ human body had been desperate to fulfill. Enlil’s cock was sending sparks up his spine, a perfect, painful bliss, overruling Marcus's brain with waves after waves of saturated endorphins just enough that for an instant Marcus could loose himself in it. For an instant, drowned in the brutal drive of a cock in and out of him stamping a unceremonious mark to his core, he could stop being Marcus Cutter or ay of the names he'd been. For a moment, the Plan didn’t matter, the _future_ didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the overwhelming treshold his body was trying to hurl itself over; his nerves firing erratically, taking over the parts of Marcus' brain that was constantly three steps ahead. For an instant, Marcus Cutter could be reduced to a simple, wanton animal.

It was plain to see Enlil wouldn’t last long, overwhelmed and shaky, so Marcus wasted no time in getting his hands on his own cock, pulling the orgasm out of himself as he was pounded in the mattress, gripping the pillow with his free hand, and letting the sheet smother him, making him feel light-headed when the dam finally broke.  
Enlil followed soon after.

He'd really needed this, thought Marcus idly, his body feeling entirely too sluggish now that the adrenaline left it, not even energetic enough to bat away Enlil's gentle attention. It'd been a bad week, was the last thing his brain could come up with, before he promptly went under and fell asleep.

* * *

Marcus woke up in an bed.

He took an instant to take stock of his surrounding, unmoving in case anyone were to enter the room before he was ready take full control of the situation. Enlil’s flat was flooded with light in the morning, his warm, pale colours making the room look overly comfortable. When it seemed the flat was truly silent and empty, Marcus finally opened his eyes and sat up. He was still wearing his unbuttoned shirt, but Enlil had apparently taken the time to fold his pants and boxer for him, which was an unexpectedly good-mannered gesture. On his pants, Marcus could see a note.  
Enlil was apparently at work, and he encouraged Marcus to use his shower and help himself to a breakfast if he wanted to.  
Was he really naive enough to trust anyone willing to fuck him? Marcus wasn’t crass enough to trash his place, but he had half a mind to do just that to teach the kid a lesson.

Instead, he picked himself up, feeling the way his body was accusing the night he’d had with no small amount of satisfaction, and made good use of Enlil’s shower, taking his time and probably using most of the hot water in the process.

He came out of the nice building feeling more relaxed than he’d been in a long time, and suddenly the loss of a room full of experimental technology didn’t seem like much of a problem anymore: merely a small bump on the road. Goddart had picked itself up from worst incidents, and this time wouldn’t be any different. The human body had proven to be incredibly resilient at time, and so was Marcus Cutter’s lifelong project.

Marcus tried to take his phone in his pocket to call Miranda and devise their next move with her, but instead his hand grazed a piece a paper. Curious, he took it out.  
It was another note, written in the same shaky, hurried handwriting that the one that had been waiting for him besides the bed earlier.

“ _If you want a booty call next time_ ” it said, and right under was scribbled a number.

Marcus snorted. A bolder move than what he would have expected from the unassuming, anxious young man.

“Maybe next time, then.” He murmured to himself, and tucked the number back in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> mouhehehe. What did you think? since I don't quite know how long I'll take to write what I don't have, and to post what I have written, this will be a series rather than a chaptered thing but... there's some kind of outline out there ;)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed! See you in the next one <3


End file.
